


them

by deadbeatfreak99



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Minor Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Prince Lee Seokmin | DK, Secret Relationship, idk how to tag, mentions of blood and death but the story is a mix of sad and sappy i promise, tailor soonyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadbeatfreak99/pseuds/deadbeatfreak99
Summary: ❝I will slice your flesh until it flows with bitter crimson and, if you'd let me, I'll hold your hand as we're met with liberation.❞《In which love is the poison and the antidote, but solely by a sword's blade comes freedom.》
Relationships: Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Seokmin | DK
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. o1

**Author's Note:**

> i've been simping for seokmin too much these days and wanted to write something a bit grim so i pumped out this pile of rubbish
> 
> i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> crossposted on my wattpad account

A rasp for a breath, a trickle of desolate laughter, and silence.

The stars trembled overhead at the sight: an ocean of red that reflected their pure light and within in it two bodies, limp and weary, gaunt and cold, together, fountains of youth morphed into whispers of death, as nameless as the rugged land they sat atop. At the side of one was placed his partaining weapon, woven with jewels and gold, and invisible chains were heavy on both their necks, encaging their souls up until their remaining instances of existence.

Seokmin, once Prince and never will be King. Soonyoung, tailor, perhaps always having been destined to die on dirt.

Their fingers, entwined, feebly clutching in a calm security, for they were certain that beyond the end they called for, lay a freedom unspeakable, a universe so diverse and rampant with dreams, idyllic. A world, a celestial plane, where sun shone constantly amidst scant clouds that took the forms of rabbits and torn wool, where pleasant music could be found around every corner, where hills were high and vast and green, flourishing meadows as far as the human eye could see, and them － their love, it could skim across the still lakes' surfaces and amongst the tree tops, loud and honest, unashamed and serene.

A place for just them, where no harm could even be fathomable, where titles and class were non-existent.

A meadow, soft and warm, and _just for the two of them._

Seokmin's lips curled, weak but content. Soonyoung struggled to shift those few inches closer, squashing the sparse blades of grass that grew in this dreary no man's land beneath him.

"Does it . . . hurt a lot, da－ darling?"

"Not as much . . . as the years that we've endured on Earth."

Soonyoung's words were mellow, his eyes still burning with a certain flame, and Seokmin glanced down at the blood that swamped their forms, in which lay their joint hands, innocent. He inhaled, wanting to smell the scent of his lover that promised nothing but comfort and protection, yet his eyebrows drooped in melancholy as all that greeted him was the acidic odour of iron.

Upon the grass, the Prince's sword. Upon the stained blade, an engraving: _Bearer of Light, Beacon of Hope._

What irony, Seokmin couldn't help but think to himself. A sword he'd used in battle, the same sword he was meant to rule over his Kingdom with, the weapon he was to weild as a symbol of his greatness, utilized to bring his own death.

He turned his head to find Soonyoung dazedly gazing at the midnight sky, clear, despite the belief of an oncoming tempest, moonlight dripping along every curve of his smooth features, stitching itself into every thread of finger-combed, black hair, glimmering in the infinity that were his tailor's － his lover's － sweet eyes.

Seokmin could not feel the pain to which his body had grown numb, the small gashes along his arms, the wound where he'd stabbed himself and then retracted the blade, for he knew of better things to come, once their eyes shut on that lonesome hill, kissed by nothing but the warm wind that stung at their skin coated in perspiration.

"Soon, my heart, we － we will be where we belong and nothing － nothing can keep us apart."


	2. o2

Seokmin ran through the castle halls, gleeful and merry, sunshine on his lips and daisies between his teeth, nimble legs hurrying along in their knee-length bottoms, navy blue and adorned with gold embroidery.

"Prince, come back!" 

The call of his guard echoed off the robust walls, enriched by tapestries and fine paintings, shaped with swirling columns and wide arches, but Seokmin giggled with more joy, excited to be finally playing a game. 

It was Sunday and he had to be fitted for a monotonous event with his father later that oncoming week, but oh how he loved to tease his guard with his mischief, have them play a quick game of cat and mouse before surrendering himself to his loathsome schedule. 

"Prince, please!" And Seokmin's smile dimmed, "His majesty will be upset if we're late!" Seokmin's laughter died.

The gleaming shoes he wore stopped their pattering upon the sleek stone and he bleakly looked down at them as he came to a standstill, only scarcely watching how his chest rapidly fell and rose with every needy breath of air.

"Thank heavens, you've stopped."

Seungcheol's voice was drastically closer than before and Seokmin startled at the hefty hand that set itself upon his shoulder. He lifted his chin and was met with the kind smile his guard gave him; he tried to wear one of his own. Seungcheol's face took on a look of sympathy at the abysmal attempt, however, and his hand patted the little Prince's tousled hair as consolation.

"Stand straight, your Highness, lest your eternal light be dimmed by such trifles."

Seokmin did as told, squaring his petite shoulders, restraining his features into a sombre expression, and Seungcheol turned them around to where they came, where Seokmin knew awaited an hour of standing and posing as the court's tailor cared for his outfit.

"There will be someone new today with you, Prince," Seungcheol airily informed as they strode past a couple maids and servants, successfully grasping the young boy's attention, "The tailor's son will be joining us as to learn better his father's skill. He's but slightly past your age and as boisterous as you. I do believe you will get along well."

Seokmin's heart bound and leapt with instantaneous joy at the knowledge of it all, the grin returning to his lips and a glow rekindling in his mahogany-tinted eyes.

"Really?" He exclaimed as his steps morphed into skips, "Do you think he'll like me? Will we become friends?"

Seungcheol guffawed, fondly gazing upon his ruler. 

"But of course, your Highness, you are nothing but a treasure to be around and a pleasure to have close."


	3. o3

The boy's name was Soonyoung. It was a cute name, Seokmin thought after he'd asked for it from the apple cheeked boy himself, slender hand easing its hold on the latter's own as their shake of greeting drew to its quick end. 

"I like your hair, Soonyoung," The Prince idly commented some time into his motionless stance, whilst the father of the very child he was looking at worked on pinning his sleeves to the correct length.

The tailor took a tentative peak up at his superior, just as Seungcheol who stood guard did, but Soonyoung didn't think much of it, a luminous smile stretching across his lips that made his eyes crinkle at their sides. 

"Thank you, your Highness," The boy cheerily replied, gently bowing in gratitude, "Yours is also nice. It looks soft."

Seokmin turned a tad shy at the praise, the tips of his ears staining with the colour of cherries, but he suppressed his timidity to smile back at the other and say, "Thank you, my maid helps me wash it with this special oil he makes from plants and flowers."

The information seemingly intrigued the chubby boy who much rather than absorbing what his father's movements and mannerisms were, had gone to place himself directly in front of the Prince, just below his circular stand, with eyes stretched in interest.

"Oh really? That's an innovative method."

Seokmin hummed, feeling oddly pleased at having impressed Soonyoung some way.

"It is," He affirmed, "You see, my maid is very intelligent and Seungcheol often joins us in the gardens to aid Jeonghan in picking that which he needs."

His jaw falling ajar as he let out a sound of understanding, Soonyoung finally took note of the guard who had become bashful for a moment and regarded him with a grin prior to facing the royal once more.

"Perhaps one day I could join you then, your Highness."

The suggestion brought the boy's father's face to pale with fright before it wrinkled in a scowl.

"Soonyoung, don't trouble the Prince with －"

"Oh, no, it's alright," Seokmin was quick to cut in, stopping the man's violent whisper before it could put off Soonyoung from talking to him. The tailor obediently silenced himself, but looked questioningly at the Prince's guard, unaccustomed to such amiable behaviour from royals.

Seokmin proceeded, "I believe Soonyoung will never be of trouble to me," His sight gingerly dropped to his shadow prior to meeting the boy's own that was transfixed upon him in wonder, "Soonyoung, please come along with us to the gardens later today. I'll allow you to pick any flowers that you find beautiful."


	4. o4

Seokmin was over the moon. His walk had a hop to it as he'd make his way along the castle halls, eyes constantly in search of the soft-faced tailor boy who he so eagerly referred to as his friend. The young Prince didn't know of many other children his age and had no siblings for him to speak or fool around with, so with every fitting for his clothing and with every time his sight would cross that of Soonyoung as he strode through his opulent home, his heart would get a few ounces lighter, his smile just that little bit brighter, until weeks had blended into months and he'd been desperate to meet with Soonyoung outside of his tailoring duties. 

They'd known each other for a year then, the young Prince twelve and Soonyoung thirteen, and though their little talks and brief chances at jokes were a gift to Seokmin, the boy couldn't help but wish to see the other more, perhaps outside that large room lined with rolls of expensive cloth and needles. 

"Here, Soonyoung, I brought you something." 

Seungcheol watched over the two from the peripherals of his vision as he shut the door, proceeding to bow his head to the tailor preparing himself for work. Soonyoung's eyes had rounded, glittering with surprise as he was handed one of the most perfect red apples he had ever seen, and a book with a gilded spine and leather cover. 

"Our family physician says that fruit helps us restore our good looks and live long; I hope that this apple does you well," Seokmin explained, somewhat bashful when Soonyoung looked to him in gratitude.

"And the book?"

The Prince's face washed over with passion at the mention of said object, his shyness shrinking as he began to speak of it while being lead to his measuring stand.

"Oh, it's one of my absolute favourites!" He chipperly said, "It's a tale of fairies and ogres, with a magnumus warrior who brings peace with the aid of his friends. I really do hope you'll like it."

Soonyoung bowed, then took hold of the Prince's hand and bestowed a kiss to his knuckles of pearl. His father looked on in disapproval, but the guard held no malice in his irises as he watched the boys interact. 

"I'm certain I will," Soonyoung spoke once he straightened hismelf, beaming at the royal who had flushed a pretty crimson, "Thank you for the gifts, your Highness. I wish I had something of value to offer in return."

"I have your friendship, Soonyoung, and that is the most precious of things you can give to me."


	5. o5

The bond between the tailor's boy and the King's son was renowned, Seokmin came to realise with inexplicable dread, as his father once commenced a discussion with him about it over a sumptuous meal one night. 

"My boy, have you been lonely these days?" 

Seokmin hurriedly shook his head, sitting ramrod straight in his luscious seat at the lengthy table that divided him from his parent, upon it a bounty of food he was sure he could never eat in its entirety over the course of even a week. The King, manicured and well-kept as he was, appeared haggard and ghastly, perhaps exhausted from political troubles Seokmin had yet to be taught.

"It's come to my knowledge that you befriended the tailor's son some time ago," The King went on, taking in a mouthful of food, "If you require friendship I shall ask for the nobles' children to pay visit and the daughters of a few to see if there are any you can take liking to."

The muscle within his ribcage contracted violently, his mind spinning with ways to respond that didn't voice how desperate Seokmin was for none of that to occur.

"I'm quite satisfied with his company, father."

Evidently, his answer was not what the King wished to hear, the latter's features hardening to stone and his hand setting his utensil down for a moment.

"Seokmin, you may be young but you are aware of the differences between you and this boy, are you not?" 

The child dipped his head, attempting to avoid the ice-like stare that enveloped his being in a shiver, until he was stunned from his faux hiding and rectified as his father raised his voice and called, "Straighten up! Don't cower away from things you would rather avoid."

Seokmin was stiff, hands desperately squeezing one another beneath the table, serving forgotten.

"Are you or are you not aware of what separates you from that servant?" 

"I －" The young Prince's frame quivered in a festering fear, "I'm a royal and he is not of noble blood."

"Precisely."

Seokmin stole a furtive glance at Seungcheol who was standing abreast another guard by the door, as though looking for advice or perhaps a place of refuge, but Seungcheol had kept his gaze brazen and sombre, strained ahead at the wall behind the King's lavish throne.

"Soon you shall mingle with other nobles and royals, forge good relations with them and find a suitable hand in marriage," The King spoke after a moment of silence Seokmin's panicked mind hadn't come to process, "You will need to increase your hours of training and studies so as to show the greatness of our family. Do you understand?"

Seokmin sharply bowed his head in submission, "Yes, father."

"And you shall limit your time spent with that tailor's boy."

He hesitated, a pang of pain akin to a swirling blade in his gut presenting itself, but the Prince still replied.

"Yes, father."


	6. o6

As an only child and one to a King, Seokmin had never got himself into any serious trouble nor dare he disobey his father's orders. He followed every rule and did every duty, no matter how troublesome and tiring any of them were. He preferred to be praised rather than scolded, even if most words of affirmation came from his guard and maid rather than anyone else. 

Seokmin much preferred making others proud in place of letting them down, so he tried, he really and truly did, to avoid Soonyoung whenever he could.

It hurt. It hurt awfully having to force himself to ignore the older when they'd pass each other in the halls and to restrain himself from talking too much whilst he was being fitted. He understood that Soonyoung must have been given the same instructions as him, for he too limited their interactions, but when their pupils would meet and lock together, bound by a force neither could yet fathom the strength of, a sadness bubbled within the both of them, blossoming in their veins and sprouting from between their lips. 

Seokmin hated disobeying orders. He'd much rather continue to be a toy prince, made to move and speak as his father wished, but Seokmin could only stand so much pain and could no longer refuse himself the smile that would adorn the boy's mouth. 

One night, unable to rest and tormented by emotions he couldn't fully place, his groggy voice called out for his guard who gently popped open the robust door and peered inside to find the young royal seated in his bed, knees to his chest and covers pulled up to his chin over them.

"Your Highness?" Seungcheol apprehensively asked, slinking his way into the Prince's chamber as quietly as he could with his armour, "What's the matter?" 

Seokmin shifted off to the side and patted on the spot of mattress he'd made for his subordinate to sit on, and Seungcheol did as indicated, prior to offering comforting rubs to the boy's head.

"Prince?"

"I miss Soonyoung."

Seemingly, confessing such a thing aloud urged a tear he'd been holding in to finally break free, trickling past his lashes and down his delicate cheek. Seungcheol stilled, pity and concern warping within his chest.

"I miss talking to him and laughing with him," Seokmin went on, streams then gliding along his skin that was dusting pink in the dim glow of his chamber's light, "I want to be friends with him again. I － It hurts a lot. I don't understand why, but it hurts, Seungcheol, right here."

The boy gripped at his torso, then fisted at his nightwear with a brief frustration. 

"What do I do?" 

Seungcheol remained silent, the hushed whisper of wind against the castle walls and the scarce chirp of nightingales being all that filled his prolonged moment of thought. And then he spoke, unable to bear seeing his Master in such a state, too young to be so sad and too pure to lose someone he held dear.

"I'll arrange for you both to meet in secret."

The Prince's head snapped up, his lips parting in utter shock and his damp eyes gleaming with renewal.

"Would you really?" 

A beat of mild doubt and Seungcheol nodded, a gloved hand going to clasp one of the royal's petite shoulders.

"You'll meet in the far ends of the gardens after sword training, for no more than an hour before your tutoring begins. I'll be the one to inform him." 

Scarcely an instant afterwards and Seokmin had flung himself around the man, bound by loyalty to protect him but by heart to keep him happy, and Seungcheol consoled the emotional Prince who was muttering a constant flow of thank you's into his chainmail, eyes squeezed shut as he let escape the last few tears before he could smile like the sun.


	7. o7

He was terribly anxious, fidgety, his fingers picking at the fine autumn clothing he wore whilst his guard guided him around the back end of the castle and along the cobbled paths in the royal gardens. Seokmin watched his own feet as they carried him to where Seungcheol promised he would meet Soonyoung, waiting for him beneath an olive tree, with his heart pattering in joyous viguor against its cage. 

"Prince!" 

He jolted, and just as he spotted Soonyoung flamboyantly waving at him, his world melted away into a paradise of soft greens and warm breezes, his body weightless as he ran to greet the friend he grew to miss so earnestly. 

"Soonyoung!" 

The embrace was unplanned, but the moment they were both close enough it came naturally to them to pull one another close and hold on dearly, for as long as they could, in the spotted shade of the tree. 

"I missed you," Seokmin mumbled into the crook of the older boy's neck, relishing in his scent that was a mixture of oranges and burning wood; and Soonyoung did the same, inhaling the Prince's air of rose petals and lavender.

"I missed you too, your Highness."

"Please, just call me my name when we're alone together."

Seungcheol remained as distant as he could when the boys would have their surreptitious encounters, resting against the bark of a pruned tree and glancing over at the pair from time to time, smiling as they'd animatedly chatter and muck around, lay on the grass despite the stains that would mar their clothing and gaze up at the sky. 

After a certain number of meetings, the cold of oncoming winter was fast approaching, breathing ice into the lungs of beings and crying rain into dry ground. Seokmin knew this would be the last time that year that he would be able to see Soonyoung in the gardens, so it was with a heavy heart and slumped shoulders that he went that afternoon. 

Expecting to see his own doleful expression reflected on Soonyoung's features, seeing the boy merry and bright upon the grass stunned him, and he hurried his steps to join the boy's side, leaving his guard's own. 

"Soonyoung, why are you so happy on a day such as this?" The Prince asked with a mild pout, prior to unceremoniously dropping himself to the ground abreast the older, "Don't you realise today will be our last time together under this tree?"

The young tailor gave a sombre smile and rose his head, endeared by the royal's baffled look and askew lips. He then lifted his hands in show, bringing the boy's attention to what he held between his fingers. 

"I know that, Seokmin," He listlessly sighed, "That is why I've set to work on encapsulating our time here together in a flower wreath for you. It's not complete yet, but what do you think of it? It's much like your crown, simply less in weight and made with sentiment." 

The skeleton of the wreath was of woven olive branches, presumably from the very tree they sat in the shelter of, but it was gently entangled with bunches of Baby Breaths and yellow Yarrows, white Daisies and orange Carnations, with such care and precision that Seokmin found himself in awe.

"I've never seen such a thing," He absent-mindedly uttered, looking scrupulously upon the creation with eyes of wonder and cheeks of strawberry, "It's beautiful."

"And it should look even more so on you."


	8. o8

Amidst thunderstorms and rainfall, Soonyoung and Seokmin decided to meet at the castle's library, between high rows of books and the mazes of their stories. The scent of paper and leather was inebriating, whisked with that of the fireplace's endless flames that ate at the wood fed to them and offered heat in return.

Seokmin would glide his fingertips across the infinite number of thick spines, somewhat in thought or simply wondering whether he'd ever be able to read every piece of text his family possessed, and he'd wait for Soonyoung to creak open the door and stealthily make his way into the room, knowing to find the Prince somewhere amidst the high structures.

"You're here," Such few words and yet so utterly elated that Seokmin blushed at hearing his own voice. 

"As always, for you," The tailor replied with an endeared smile, striding towards the royal to stop but a mere few centimetres opposite him.

The brunet still had a hand upon a book, title covered by his palm, and Soonyoung tugged his sight away from Seokmin's glittering eyes of molten gold and amber to land upon his fragile looking hand, offended by blisters caused by hours of wielding a sword. With bathed breath, Seokmin watched as the older softly set his fingers between the former's own, grazed them over the top of the Prince's hand to then lock them securely, prior to letting a tint of despondency taint his features. 

"The rain is waging war against the walls, and yet it is always warm where you are."

Seokmin's flesh prickled with a searing heat, his pulse resounding in his reddened ears, and despite his bashful response, he couldn't bring himself to look away from the boy before him.

"Perhaps it is because you are brother to the day star, Prince."

Soonyoung had always been relentless with his praise that would woe the shorter for days and nights, inexplicably forcing his heart to thunder like a ferocious beast within him and his mind to ponder upon things it shouldn't.

"Years have passed, friend, and your ability to consistently find something new to say to me is impressive."

And it was true, the young Prince had hit the ripe age of sixteen by then, the tailor a year above, and every summer and each winter they would meet in the safety of the library and beneath their olive tree. Soonyoung made the Prince a new wreath of flowers once a week when the weather was pleasant and they were out to enjoy it, and Seokmin would treasure them upon his bedside table. He'd xchange his crown of metal for that of petals, fingers tremblant and face pink as he'd gaze upon himself in the mirror and think of he who made it, he whose touch was like a spring rain and laugh a bell's jingle, who made the boy's veins burn with heat and soul soar at every act of affection.

"I could only do so because you yourself are an endless source of beauty and love, from which one can pluck as much inspiration as desired."

Soonyoung's words were dripping with honey and fondness, and Seokmin found himself to be stunned, wordless, incapable of formulating a response fit enough to speak. Very soon, however, he would realise one would not be necessary, for the hand holding his own brought his bent knuckles to Soonyoung's lips, and through the haze of it all, Seokmin could only think they felt of velvet. 

"S－Soonyoung?" 

"It's horridly foolish and disagreeable of me to say this, but I do believe that, should I keep it in any longer, the thorns pushing against my ribs will break free and leave me in equal agony."

The tailor's features had pulled into an expression more strained and anxious, baffling even further the already muddled mind of the Prince.

"Please, Soonyoung, speak whatever it is that's tormenting you," Seokmin murmured in concern, adjusting the hold they had on one another's fingers so that his could rub soothingly at the older's, "I'll － I'll do what I can to relieve you of it."

Giving a ginger smile, Soonyoung splayed the boy's palm upon his chest, resting it over his racing heart.

"Then all I would need is the saccharine taste of your lips dancing across my own, and the reciprocated confession of love I'm about to make to you."

Seokmin swiftly inhaled, shoulders rising to be nearer to his neck as his frantic thoughts clambered about within his skull until they settled on a sole thing to be definite: Soonyoung had feelings for him.

"I wonder if any of these books can put into words what I feel for you," Soonyoung almost idly pondered, giving a brief glance around at the shelves that hid them in their welcoming shadows, "for my heart has refused to operate alongside my mind for a long time, and though I have nothing, I would give anything for you to be well and content."

He returned his attention to Seokmin, the very boy he'd been urging up against the mural of texts as he spoke, and fondly sighed at the look of astonishment and vibrant blush that coloured his royal's cheeks.

"You are as sweet as nectar and as strong as a beast, yet tantalisingly delicate to my touch," He went on in observation, his left palm having floated up to hold the side of Seokmin's face, the pad of his thumb drawing circles atop his skin.

"Be － Be honest," Seokmin stammered in delay, not retreating from the gentle contact, "By all this, you mean to say you love me?" 

Soonyoung sombrely smiled, "Enough that you haunt my dreams and embrace every stray thought," He hesitated, mulled it over before saying, "I wonder if you feel the same."

Regardless of how embarrassing he'd berate himself for being in retrospect, Seokmin had waited a fraction of a second prior to his head repeatedly bobbing in affirmation until his dry lips could part and stutter, "At even force and beating heart."

And Soonyoung dipped forward, keeping their hands together and connected as he brought his mouth against Seokmin's own, lashes fluttering shut and blood made of clouds, savouring the sensation of warmth and excitement; and the scent of paper and ink once so powerful, was replaced by nothing other than that of oranges and lavender.


	9. o9

Many hours were stolen out of their days and nights to be spent together, in discretion to all but Seungcheol and Jeonghan. In addition were a few murmuring servants who, unbeknownst to the juvenile males, would spread what they saw like a viral disease, whispering, _'_ _And them, so close even if he's a Prince! Them, who meet in covert ways at the edges of the gardens and leave one another's rooms at early mornings! Them, who look upon one another with eyes far beyond those meant for acquaintances_ _!'_

Blissfully unaware, the two would continue to steal kisses beneath the speckled shade of their protective tree and hold hands as they'd run around bushes, laugh merrily and freely under the embrace of the afternoon suns that watched over them, until two years had gone by and Seokmin had yet to birth proper connections with his country's allies and a romance with one of the rulers' off-spring.

The King would battle his son until the stained glass set into the castle walls would shake and the Prince would cower beneath him, pleading to have just a few more years of no marriage, begging for the man to understand that he felt ill-prepared for such a serious matter. The man had been distraught and at his wit's end, incapable of fathoming why his son refused all the angelic girls he'd brought him as brides, consulting with his confidants about what to do and how to behave, until a sole maid, listening to the King's dejected spiel, spoke the unspeakable, and shattered the mould of the two lovers' paradise.

"Your Highness, perhaps the Prince has already found someone he holds dear," She tentatively suggested as she wiped her damp cloth over the gilded frame of a painting hung upon a wall in the royal's private chambers.

Such a statement had the King's attention snapping towards the fair woman, a brow arching in question.

"What do you know?" Was all he asked, scarcely regarding the servant's shoulders tensing as she peered at the guard by the only door out.

She adjusted her posture and brought her hands to lock before her, facing the royal with respect.

"For some years now the Prince has been rather close to the old tailor's boy," She paused, seeing a tint of confusion dye her Master's features, "The boy with black hair and round cheeks, your Highness."

The King simply wafted away the extra information with a casual hand of disregard, "Go on; such details don't interest me."

"Well, you see, they meet in secret almost every day and the way they gaze upon the other is that of . . ."

"Of?"

She wrinkled her nose a bit, insecure prior to caving and spilling the truth she knew.

"Of lovers, your Highness. We've seen the two share intimate acts of affection and they've spent nights in one another's chambers, only to leave at dawn in a hurried way. They －"

"Enough!"

The abrupt shout brought the shaken maid to drop her cloth, which she promptly bent over to retrieve before rectifying herself with her head kept low.

"What nonsense are you blabbering?" The King accused in sheer disdain, "My son doing such ludicrous things with some tailor － a boy? Have you gone insane?"

Her form was quivering by then as she vigorously shook her head.

"Your Highness, I － I speak nothing but the truth!"

His hand rushed down against the wall he'd been closest to, eyes wide with a rage and bafflement ineffable, powerful enough to make even the guard give a minimal jolt when they turned in his direction.

"And you?" The King inquired with venom, "What do you know?"

The guard fastened his fists, mind reeling with what to say and who to protect; the helpless maid or the Prince and his love.

"I know of nothing, your Highness," The man spoke with certainty, straining his stare upon the spot just above the King's head, unable to witness the reaction of shock from the maid abreast him, "Most of my hours are spent by your Majesty."

Gruffly snorting, the King swivelled to return his focus to the astounded woman, and spoke, "Do you have anything to say for yourself and your claims?"

"I － Seung－Seungcheol!" Her eyes were alight with a frantic euphoria, "The Prince's guard has witnessed all things with his very eyes, helped them even!"

"Bring him to me and tell him not of what I need to speak with him."


	10. o10

Seungcheol felt the wrench in his gut the instant he saw the petite woman scampering towards him with tears welling in her eyes and her face pale as though she'd seen a spirit.

"Lady, what's the matter?" He asked with trepidation already clawing at the back of his throat.

She gawked at him at a loss, eyes repeatedly flickering between the door of the young Prince's room and her fingers which she wrung at her chest. Seungcheol's lungs felt to compress, a steady festering fear clawing at his insides. 

It had happened.

"I － Forgive me, Seungcheol, please," The woman began to plea, desperate, pitiful enough that the man, despite the stiffness that held his every limb captive, mechanically reached out to soothingly clasp at her shoulder. 

"Tell me what happened, Hyunmin."

She appeared consumed by guilt and fear, sweet features contorted as regret stitched itself into every inch of her flesh.

"The King was asking about Seokmin's lack of interest in noble girls for marriage when － I did the unthinkable. I － I told him that his son has possibly already found love in the arms of the boy tailor."

Seungcheol's world whirred around him, reality beginning to blur, and yet Hyunmin didn't stop speaking, as though she couldn't keep the words in. 

"He sent me here to bring you to him, to ask of what you know. As － Whilst I was leaving he was enraged, swearing to banish both the tailor and his son, correct the Prince from his path of evil and － I fear for your safety as well, Seungcheol."

The guard's heart pulsated with furious panic, but it was no time to lose his calm nor to put himself first. He'd sworn to protect his young Master and his happiness, no matter the cost or the consequences.

"I must warn the Prince," He stated, resolute, but as his hand reached for the hefty handle to the bedroom door, the maid's own clutched at his wrist in terror, gasping in fright.

"You must be speaking in jest!" She exclaimed as much as she could in a whisper, "The King will have your head if you do anything outlandish."

Bells rung against Seungcheol's skull, warning, yet he ripped his arm away and pushed Hyunmin aside, staring down at her with a determination unyielding.

"So be it."

And he pushed the door open, the wood creaking, metal whinging, and upon the royal bed he set his sights on the young Prince in the secure arms of the tailor, Seokmin shrunken into a ball as though wanting nothing more than to feel warm and safe in the hold of Soonyoung. Oh, how it made Seungcheol's heart bleed for him to know it would end soon. 

He shook himself from his thoughts and left the maid by the entrance, hurrying over to the boys and kneeling beside the royal. Taking one last look at the serene expression that nestled upon his beloved Prince's face, he hardened his will and pat the male awake, until the latter groaned and stretched, disturbing Soonyoung beside him.

"Seungcheol?" Came his weary, groggy voice in the dim candlelight of his room, "What's the matter?" 

With a fond smile and a gentle palm atop the Prince's cheek, Seungcheol spoke.

"Seokmin, matters are no longer in our hands. Your father has come to know about you and your boy's partnership and greatly disapproves," Soonyoung was jostled awake by Seokmin's frantic hand, "He won't act until morning but I must go speak with him now. The two of you －"

Seokmin stuttered an inhale, attempting to process everything hurled upon him in the middle of the night. The warmth of the bed had dissipated, the comfort of Soonyoung around him scarcely lingered, and though his fateful guard did his best to appear at ease, he was evidently distraught.

"The two of you must leave for a short while, just enough for his Highness' anger to dwindle until he's ready to listen to reason."

"But －" 

The Prince was cut off by the older, the intensity within the guard's gleaming eyes shaking his very core and leaving him breathless.

"Listen to me, Seokmin, the two of you must do as I say. I will talk to him and do what I can, but in the meanwhile you both need to be safe," Seungcheol's defences weakened as the first tear tracked its way down the brunet's cheek, still rosy from where it had been pressed into his pillow, his words threatening to come out as croaks until he cleared his throat, "Take your sword with you and a few clothes, I'll have Hyunmin bring you some food that will sustain you two for a short time."

"Seungcheol － Seungcheol, please, this must be a nightmare."

Soonyoung was alert enough to recognise the way his lover's frame had begun to shake and crumble, so he quickly wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled the latter's back to his chest, attempting to ground him.

"My dear Prince, life is often just so," Seungcheol braved a look at the tailor then, grateful for his fortitude despite the clear exhaustion, fear and concern that wove across his face, "Soonyoung, you need not worry about your father. I shall do all that I can to defend him as well."

"I have faith in you, Sir," The male replied with a grim smile, "As long as you promise to defend yourself with as much passion."

Seungcheol hummed, endeared by the two he'd seen grow and blossom into something so beautiful. As though aware of the guard's train of thought, Seokmin spoke through his tears and sputtering lips.

"I'm eternally grateful to you, Seungcheol. Please, no matter what, I beg of you to be here when we return. If you can't promise this then run with us now. Call Jeonghan and we'll all go somewhere far, where we can be gleeful and free of the chains that bind us to this castle and its limitations."

The Prince's shoulders were jumping, his words riddled with anguish and baseless hope, and Seungcheol said all that he could.

"I promise to be here when you return."


	11. o11

The light of days melted out into the blackness of nights, a constant loop and incessant reminder of time's passing, the only thing to steady both Soonyoung and Seokmin as they ran into the farthest area of settlements around the outskirts of the kingdom and hid, like notorious criminals. What sad irony, their crime was love and their victim was none but each other, yet there they were, temporarily settled in an unused shed and sleeping upon empty sacks of grain. 

Seokmin truly tried to be brave and of support to his partner, for he knew his desolation was equally felt by the other, yet with every sunset he would shatter like porcelain and weep into Soonyoung's gentle arms, scarcely hearing the words of comfort hushed into his ears by the male who held him together.

"I － I'm sorry for being so pathetic, my heart," Came one of Seokmin's many apologies as moonshine filtered in through holes in the hut's roof and bestowed a soothing glow to their figures, "I'm meant to be King, fearless and powerful, yet I cry into your loving chest like a babe nearly each night instead of being a source of strength and encouragement for you."

Soonyoung cradled the male closely, lifting his weight so as to set him on his lap and hold the tips of their noses in subtle contact. He soothingly rubbed along the royal's side, up and down his arms, planting affirming kisses to the younger's neck and cheeks. 

"I am strong enough for the both of us, just as you are strong in your own way," He whispered breathily, shutting his eyes to his lover's dwindling hiccups, "Sunshine, you are far from pathetic and I would have you no other way than as you already are."

Two weeks trickled by at a pace too quick and yet too slow, and the food they'd brought along had been entirely devoured over the course of shared portions. 

Seokmin awoke to his face burrowed into Soonyoung's shoulder, rays of light dancing down and fluttering across their skin as a new day began. 

"Sunshine?" 

A hum in response, a snuggle closer and the naive attempt at shutting his eyes and surrounding himself only in the warmth of his lover, as though they hadn't been in hiding, as though their love brought nothing but happiness. He could almost feel the softness of his bedsheets and Soonyoung's scent of oranges mixing with that of the flowers upon his bedside table.

"We should head back to your father."

The memory faded, leaving nothing but acid on the Prince's tongue and needles behind his eyes. His sight settled on his unused sword, fitted into its carved scabbard, and the same thought he'd been having whilst Soonyoung would sleep and his eyes would blink unseeingly at the ceiling, emerged in the light of day.

"We should."

Travelling to where they'd come from was torturous. They did what they could to lighten one another's mood: point at clouds and claim them to look like something funny, poke at each other's sides and playfully start up a game of chase before falling into pace and holding hands. They did their best, but a sense of dread and fear stubbornly welled in both of their stomachs, gripped them with more force all through their journey home, and Seokmin dazedly wondered if it was because a part of them knew what awaited them both. 

Once they came to the palace's front, their shoes ground into the stone beneath their soles, and their every limb was deprived of oxygen as they stared.

And there, at the top part of the wall beside the main gate, was an iron spike on which's wicked end was a severed head, stained with dry blood and stomach churning shades of yellows and greens. Its once soft, wavy hair was then crisp and knotted, matted to the scalp, eyes of glass and soulless, gazing blindly at those bellow, with its jaw slack in a silent scream.

Seokmin could only let out a croak. Soonyoung shuddered.

Seungcheol had kept his promise. 


	12. o12

Seokmin did not cry. Seokmin did not speak.

Soonyoung watched him with a terrific horror as the person he loved had been seemingly drained away, leaving nothing but a breathing corpse at his side. They never returned to the castle, they would have been foolish if so, but the pair sprinted and ran, tripping over their weak knees and uncoordinated limbs, around trees and up distant hills, the afternoon sun having died out into the moon of night.

Soonyoung crumpled to the ground, palms digging into small rocks and soil, panting, desperately blinking his eyes to rid them of what they saw and violently shoving the idea that his father had met the same fate away. He dry-heaved, lungs burning with the thorns that pressed into them.

"I've been thinking, darling."

Seokmin had sat himself sloppily upon the ground abreast his lover some minutes later, placed a soothing palm at the male's back and gazed bleakly out over the valley below. This low hill was their own, safe and dark, with the ghost of what they had left and what they would leave.

"A number of things are not meant to be," the Prince went on as Soonyoung gradually shifted onto his bottom, legs stretching out limply ahead of him, "perhaps our love is one of them. Perhaps our existence in this world is as well."

Soonyoung carefully turned his head towards the other, curious, but Seokmin remained looking up at the moon in the vast sky of spilt ink, and a void smile curled across his lips.

"I've been thinking, my heart, that you and I are in a world that doesn't partain to us, that there is a place, a universe, where we can embrace in the sight of others and bear no shame or punishment. I've been thinking," Seokmin paused, turned to look to the older whose breath remained lodged by the abrupt appearance of a stone in his throat, "that if we were to end our existence here we shall be reborn elsewhere, together and, perhaps, in a world meant for us."

The tailor felt his soul being swallowed by the sincere and hopeless concoction that stirred within the crystal eyes of the other, and without him thinking much else he spoke.

"Do you truly believe such a place exists? Regardless if our souls disappear with us or if they are given the opportunity to be together in another realm, however, I shall follow you where ever you go and in what ever you do. Say the word and I am but your shadow."

"And I, yours."

Seokmin's quivering hand wrapped around the scabbard of his sword, gazed upon it as it glowed in the moonlight, sharply inhaled as the latter cried with its extraction and blinded him with its formidable blade.

He looked from the tip to his partner, silently asking for confirmation. Soonyoung gave a tremblant smile.

"If you and I are to be one, then you shall do that which I do," Seokmin whispered, fingers deftly grabbing the blade and directing the sword at his own abdomen, one hand holding it steady as the other gripped its hilt. His sight was stitched to that of Soonyoung, whose mind was devoid of thought, depleted of will and fight. Seokmin appeared ethereal in the blue shine and the grey it cast upon his skin, "If you choose to live on, do not fear the potential start of your new life. You need not force yourself to follow through with my folly."

Soonyoung's palm cupped the side of Seokmin's face; Seokmin dipped into the touch, at ease.

"As I said before, I will not leave you. A life without you is a life without reason."

A pause, a fond peck to the palm and lips tickling at the sensitive skin as they uttered, "I will stab at your stomach and weep at your pain. I will slice your flesh until it flows with bitter crimson and, if you'd let me, I'll hold your hand as we're met with liberation."

"To liberation then."

Soonyoung gave a final kiss to the Prince's lips. Upon such close proximity, he noticed the damp trails beneath Seokmin's eyes; he noticed, he had leaked his own.

"I love you, my heart."

The final push and a rasp of a breath, limbs shaking as lips sputtered in agony.

"I love you, sunshine."

And Soonyoung was a shadow.


	13. end

_Them, who were found laying in one another's blood upon a hill! Them, who held hands until their final breaths! Them, who ended their own journeys so soon to birth the freedom of their love! Them, oh those two boys, whose partnership brought chaos and rising tides of rage, summer-scented kisses and merry laughter, and left a ravenous beast of tragedy in their wake, a sprouting sapling of promising change in their end._

_The Prince and his lover the tailor － golden Seokmin and joyous Soonyoung; them._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading (:


End file.
